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quietplacememes2018-02-28 08:56 pm
bequiet) wrote in quietplacememes2018-02-28 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #003
TEST DRIVE MEME
You wake, standing. A thick, muddy red dust coats your skin and clothes - it sticks to your tongue and blocks your vision. Inhale and it chokes you, exhale and your breath puffs out in front of your face in a transparent maroon cloud. It tastes of copper, tangy and harsh. Movement is difficult, every limb tingles and aches. Look to your left, your right. Evenly spaced in each direction stands another person indistinguishable in every way from the next. You're disoriented and lethargic, unable to grasp onto a single thought. A pinprick of light blooms ahead and grows steadily larger; a door has opened.
Hands grip your wrists, push at the small of your back and guide you out of the darkness into a room with four walls and a thin, sagging ceiling. The plaster is peeling, the air is musty, and the floor is slick. White plastic piping juts up from the center and curves into multiple spouts, clean water flowing in uneven streams. Those hands pull your clothes off and clear the dust from your body, redress you in handsewn jumpsuits.
A finger is pressed to your lips. Kind eyes meet your own and a single word is whispered - hush.
Led out of the room in a line, you’re taken down a short hallway and into another, much larger room. There’s a woman waiting for you there, a child hugging her leg, and a cloth bag in her hands. She reaches in and pulls out a device, passes one to each of you. Once finished, she begins to move both hands in graceful gestures, a language. One of the people who helped you lifts their device and the screen lights up, tracks the woman’s hands. Letters appear on the screen and you understand the device’s purpose. She tells you what she knows and it’s not much.
This world is haunted. Noise attracts them, so it is not allowed. Communication is through body language, soundless writing, and the device. She tells you that your feet must be light and your mouth never used. There is a community outside these doors, where you can survive together, but only if you agree to one thing: complete and total silence. You'll have time to talk it over. Acceptance allows you to journey outside. The ground is marked in pathways of sand, lining the paths to each building and everywhere in between. You notice that the locals hold their devices always, aloft and glance to it often. It will not vibrate or make a sound to signal a message.
Notices appear. Rules. Guidelines. Feet on the sand and never anywhere else. To open a door you brush your fingers along the hinges - oiled and you may enter. If not, take the brush from the can sitting nearby and coat the metal with the dark liquid. You're to settle into your new home.
Caught me unawares
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day
The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.
That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the happiest moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything good and sweet and fun. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restful and pleasant sleep. But on the third night it changes.
For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that dream from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the dream together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.
Falling down the stairs
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day
The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.
That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the worst moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything bad and sour and awful. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restless and dreadful sleep. But on the third night it changes.
For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that nightmare from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the nightmare together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.
OOC
From your mods:
Please remember to mark your content in your starters or subject lines as material comes up. The threads on this meme can be used as game canon. Feel free to thread out arrival style meetings as well! If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment below. Have fun!
no subject
She's kind of the worst, isn't she.
At a lack for anything worthwhile to say, she sits and watches Chloe eat in silence. She hasn't even fried any marshmallows herself, just held pointlessly onto the stick. It'd feel weird, camping out here, making s'mores, like everything's normal. But it would've felt weirder declining William's invitation.
Still-- even with the guilt and the regret and the discomfort, even with the mourning that chews away at her heart, this moment right here feels more like home than anything in Max's life since she left. ]
... Hey, Chloe?
no subject
She really wanted a bottle of something stronger than the soda that was sitting on the ground.
The break from it makes her look up, over to her, pausing mid-chew of s'more because the sticky treat always takes forever to swallow. She doesn't bother trying before answering, either, a mouth full of marshmallow as she speaks. ] Yeah?
no subject
The humor drains from her features with the realization she might not get to see Chloe like this again. And never William.
It'll never be like this again.
Quietly, Max reaches for Chloe's free hand on the ground, and takes it in her own. ]
I don't... want to wake up.
no subject
Her eyes are stinging and she clenches her fists for a moment, no longer having the stick to grip on to for stability. She can feel her nails digging in to the skin of her palm. It relaxes only when she feels Max reach out, feels her hand in hers, letting her fingers lace with the other girl's. ]
Me neither. [ Her voice is quiet and shaky. ] What... What did I do? To make you just disappear. What did I fuck up?
ಥ_ಥ
[ She just what? At the absolute least, Chloe deserves an explanation, even if it'll only make her hate Max more. It's better she realize what a shitty weak coward Max is, rather than blame this on herself.
Chloe doesn't need anything more to feel bad about.
Max takes a deep, shuddering breath, bracing herself. Failing to compose a proper answer in her head, she resigns to just letting her mouth run; it's not like there's a way to make it sound worse than it is, anyway. ]
I just... never know what to say. I feel so guilty talking to you about stupid stuff like we used to, or how I'm doing in Seattle, it doesn't feel right to. I don't know how to be there for you when I can't be there, and when you were falling apart and needed me and all I could say was the same useless crap over and over again, I knew that wasn't helping at all, but I didn't know what else to do. And I got so angry at myself and I started thinking that if I can't say the right thing, then I just shouldn't say anything at all, because it probably just makes you feel worse when you're counting on me to make things better and I can't. And then the longer I went without saying anything, the harder it got to reply when you messaged me, and...
[ This is where Max's voice, grown strained and trembling with each word, finally cracks. Wetness smears the corners of her vision again, but this time no amount of blinking can keep it at bay, and the tears spill down her cheeks into the lap of her hoodie. ] ... I failed you. A-and I don't know how to face you anymore.
ThisIsFine.JPG
But the anger is still there. The abandonment. The fact that she hadn't pushed through when she needed her most and just dealt with the discomfort that came from talking to her when she was at her worst.
She feels her hand squeezing into hers, sure she'd leave a mark if this was real. Is it real? She's never been so honest before. It doesn't feel like a dream anymore. It feels like an actual explanation. Her head is pounding and her throat hurts from trying so hard to hold back tears. ]
Trying was all I wanted. Just hearing your voice. It was enough. [ At least enough to get her through the day. Maybe not enough to make it all feel better, but nothing ever would be. ] It would still be enough. As pissed as I am, if you called tomorrow, I'd pick up and pretend like nothing ever happened. [ Her voice cracked, eyes shutting, her own hand clenching down roughly on her friend's. ] I just miss you, Max. Everything's gotten so fucked up and all I want is my best friend.
no subject
God. She hates this. She hates this. New tears keep flooding her eyes until she can't see ahead of her anymore, her shoulders shake and her lungs stutter, and Max can barely breathe. She hates this. ]
I miss you too. So much, every day. Even if you don't believe me. [ She sniffs hard, screws her eyes shut. Her voice comes out small and nasal, like she's all of ten years old again. ]
I didn't wanna leave.
no subject
The logical part of her knows she had to go with her parents. The hurt child she left behind wanted to believe she had a choice because otherwise the world just hated her as much as she thought it did. She didn't want to leave, but she had a choice in disappearing.
She can't think about this anymore. She doesn't know how without saying something she'll regret. ]
Mom's gonna get remarried. [ And how thrilled she sounds. ] Maybe you'll be invited to the wedding.
no subject
Joyce and William were so in love, the way you only see in movies. To think she found someone new already... Max can hardly wrap her head around it. What kind of person could take William's place? ]
To who...?
no subject
David Madsen. He moved in a couple days ago. Thinks it'll be good for me, teach me what a 'stable home is really like' or what the fuck ever. [ Despite her bitterness, she still softens slightly for a moment. Not with anything resembling joy, but at least slightly less anger. ] He makes Mom happy, I guess.
no subject
It's a good thing Joyce is doing better, of course, but... ]
What about making you happy?
no subject
[ Sad Chloe was being Sad again. Isn't that what Rachel had taunted her with once when pissed? She rolled her eyes at herself, running a hand through her hair. ]
She gave up.
no subject
[ It's a mournful, heartbroken sigh; Max can feel the cracking in her chest like a physical thing.
Words are failing her again, but just this once, she realizes they're not needed. Instead she lets go of Chloe's hand and throws both arms around her, putting all her weight into the hug, squeezing tight. Her damp cheek presses into bony shoulder, probably staining Chloe's shirt, but she doesn't care. ]
no subject
It took her a second, but only that long at most, before she wrapped her arms fairly tightly around her, hands clinging to her shirt like she almost thought she'd slip through her fingers if she didn't hold tight enough.
If she stayed asleep forever right now, she'd be more than okay with it. ]